


The Icing on the Cake

by vanillalime



Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Young Adult, Awkward Conversations, Community: hardtime100, Family, Multi, Thanksgiving Dinner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 11:08:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6608383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanillalime/pseuds/vanillalime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris joins the Beecher family for a meal on Thanksgiving Day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Icing on the Cake

**Author's Note:**

> An AU where Toby and Chris are in their early 20's (no Oz). Toby has recently come out to his parents after moving into an apartment with Chris.
> 
> Originally posted to Livejournal in November 2013. Written for the Hardtime100 challenge prompt "Feast or Famine." At the time, I was unaware that Toby's mother had the canon name of "Victoria," so she is nameless in this story.

Toby and his mother walked into the kitchen together. He held the refrigerator door open for her as she slowly maneuvered the platter of sliced turkey out and onto the countertop.  
  
The formal Thanksgiving dinner they had enjoyed earlier in the afternoon was already a distant memory. The last lingering members of the extended family had just left, while the staff had been sent home long ago to enjoy their own holiday plans. The silence in the kitchen was deafening after the constant chatter in the crowded rooms of the house, where aunts and uncles and cousins laughed and talked and drank under the attentive eyes of Toby’s parents, ever the perfect hosts.  
  
Now it was time for his mother to re-heat the leftovers and lay out all the makings for their traditional post-feast turkey sandwiches. Normally, this was when she would finally relax and reflect happily on the day’s events with her husband and sons. This year, though, things were a little different, and Toby was behind the reason for that.  
  
“Thanks again for having Chris over tonight,” Toby quietly said to his mother. "He should be here soon."  
  
“It’s just sandwiches,” she shrugged.  
  
“It’s still a family holiday meal," Toby noted. "Chris was touched by the invitation. He hasn’t celebrated Thanksgiving in years.”  _Maybe ever_ , he thought to himself.  
  
“He must not be very close to his own family,” was his mother’s stilted reply.  
  
Toby paused and tried not to sigh. He knew his mother was fishing for information. She had approached this subject before, and Toby had always skirted around it. After a moment, he simply said, “Chris has been on his own for a long time.”  
  
Toby’s mother merely nodded her head in acknowledgement.  
  
They continued their well-orchestrated dance of moving dishes from the refrigerator to the countertop to the microwave to the kitchen table, the quiet broken only by the occasional ding of the microwave's timer.  
  
"Aunt Mabel asked me why you broke up with Genevieve," his mother suddenly said.  
  
Toby held his breath and mentally counted to ten. His father had taught him that trick years ago in an effort to help him contain his temper and control his smart mouth. Sometimes it worked.  
  
"What did you tell her?" he finally asked.  
  
"That the two of you had drifted apart after developing different interests."  
  
Toby laughed before he could stop himself. "I guess that's one way of putting it," he said.  
  
One sideways glance at his mother's expression was enough to wipe the grin off his face. Quickly, he said, "I'm sorry. I know you've been struggling with this. "  
  
His mother turned to face him. ”I just want you to be happy,” she said.  
  
"I am."  
  
"Did I push too hard with Gen? Maybe she just wasn't the right girl for you. I know plenty of other young ladies who--"  
  
"Mother, NO."  
  
Toby looked away and tried to count to ten again. As he placed the serving spoons into the bowls on the table, he decided to take the conversation in another direction. “Angus sure is excited to see Chris again."  
  
“Mmmm.” His mother placed the last of the condiments on the table. “Are you and Chris still taking him to that car race this weekend?"  
  
"It's a monster truck rally, not a car race, and, yes, Chris will be back on Saturday night to pick us up."  
  
“You know, I expect the events of that night to be age-appropriate for Angus.”  
  
Toby desperately hoped that she was only referring to the nature of the show, and not to the prospective behavior of himself and his boyfriend.  _Is she afraid that we’ll grope each other in front of him? Take him to a gay bar afterwards?_  
  
“Chris has assured me that these rallies are very family-friendly,” he replied cautiously.  
  
Thankfully, the doorbell rang before his mother could make any clarifications to her demand. Together they walked into the foyer. As they reached the front door, Toby held back slightly, deferring to his mother as she opened it wide.  
  
Chris stood there on the threshold, holding a large plastic container, shivering in the cold. Toby took note of the thin windbreaker he wore, and he knew that Chris had elected to wear it instead of his old, raggedy wool coat, the one with the patched elbow and grease stain on the front.  
  
Chris was welcomed into the house, pleasantries were exchanged, and Toby’s mother held out her hand to take the jacket. Chris handed his container to Toby and removed his coat, revealing one of Toby’s preppy polo shirts underneath. It was two sizes too small, every thread stretched to its limit against the hard muscles of Chris’s upper body. Toby had thought it impossible for Chris to look any better than he did when he was wearing his usual muscle shirts, but this came damn close.  
  
If his mother recognized the shirt as one of Toby’s, she didn’t say anything.  
  
“I brought a dessert,” Chris said proudly. He took his container back from Toby and peeled back the lid. Inside was a mouthwatering, golden-brown cake covered with cranberries and a caramelized glaze.  
  
“It’s a cranberry upside-down cake,” Chris explained. “Sorry it’s not on a fancy plate or anything. We don’t have stuff like that in the apartment. I was lucky enough to find a pan to bake it in.”  
  
Toby raised his eyebrows. He looked at his mother’s face and saw her attempting to cover up a look of shock that was greater than his own. "You made this yourself?" she asked.  
  
Wearing the same grin that had melted Toby’s heart the first time he saw it, Chris nodded his head enthusiastically and elaborated:  
  
“Yeah, I was kinda bored without Toby around this week. So I went to the library…”  
  
_He knows where the library is?_  thought Toby.  
  
“… and checked out this book…”  
  
_He has a library card?_  
  
“… called  _The Joy of_ … “  
  
_Sex?_  
  
“…  _Cooking_. There was a picture of this cake in there, and I thought it looked real good. So, yesterday, I went to the store and got the stuff to make it, and I baked it up this morning.”  
  
Toby’s mother remained unresponsive as she studied Chris, so Toby prompted, “Sounds like quite the project.”  
  
“Yeah, it kept me busy, anyway. Unfortunately, I made quite the mess, too. I think it took me longer to clean up the kitchen this afternoon than it did to make the cake.” Chris laughed. “It’s amazin’ how far flour can fly!”  
  
Toby’s mother finally collected herself. She smiled back and quietly said, “Chris, this looks wonderful. Thank you. It will make a lovely addition to our meal.”  
  
“You’re welcome,” replied Chris. Suddenly, he exclaimed, “Oh, I forgot! There’s a can of Reddi-Wip in the car to go with it. I mean, I know it’s not like real whipped cream, or whatever, but I still thought… “ He waved his hand over the cake as his voice trailed away.  
  
“Why, that was a excellent idea,” said Toby’s mother as she patted his arm. “Why don’t you go get it, while I take your cake into the kitchen. I can put it on a nice serving plate, if you want?”  
  
“Sure, that would be great!” said Chris, handing her the cake.  
  
As his mother left for the kitchen, Toby followed Chris outside. “Nice shirt,” he commented. He used the outspread fingers of his hand to slowly smooth out the front of the shirt and tug it down.  
  
Chris squeezed his fingers and said, “Yeah, I thought I’d better leave the coveralls at the shop.”  
  
“Nice cake, too,” Toby continued. He paused, then said, “That bakery that’s just on the edge of campus,  _Miss Sally’s Sweets_ … I wonder if they sell cranberry upside-down cake?”  
  
“Aw, Toby, that hurts!” declared Chris with wide, innocent eyes. He leaned in close to whisper in Toby’s ear. “I got skills in places other than the bedroom, ya know.”  
  
As Toby blushed, Chris reached into his car to grab the can of Reddi-Wip off the seat. He held it up for Toby to see.  
  
“With that in mind, you might be glad to know that there’s a second can of this back at the apartment just for us,” Chris told him.  
  
“You’re planning on doing more baking?”  
  
“No, I thought we could have fun later just sprayin’ the cream on all kinds of things and lickin’ it right off,” answered Chris with a wink.  
  
Toby caught his breath. “I think I’m going to enjoy this domesticated side of you,” he said. Then he pulled Chris by the arm back into the warm house.  
  
They reunited with Toby’s mother as she came out of the kitchen, a thoughtful look on her face.  
  
“What time do you think it will be when you get back from that truck show on Saturday night?” she asked Toby.  
  
Toby looked at Chris before turning back to his mother. “I’m not sure, but it’ll be pretty late,” he said. “Probably after midnight.”  
  
“And it would be a lot later than that by the time Chris got home,” she mused. She hesitated, then turned to address Chris directly. “If you would prefer, I could make up the guest room, and you could spend Saturday night here. That way, you wouldn’t have to drive back home so late at night. We could have a nice Sunday brunch here the following morning, and then the two of you could head back to your apartment together.”  
  
Toby was stunned. He looked at Chris and tried to catch his eye. He knew that it would be no big deal for Chris to drive back home late at night, but he wanted him to accept his mother’s offer. It was a very symbolic gesture on her part, and he hoped Chris realized what it meant.  
  
But Chris's eyes never left his mother's face. After a moment, Chris cleared his throat. "I'd like that," he quietly said.  
  
"Good," she replied. "Now, Toby, go to the kitchen and show Chris where everything is. I need to find Angus and your father.” She looked back at Chris. “They'll be thrilled to learn that there's more dessert."  
  
Following his mother's instructions, Toby led Chris into the kitchen. When his mother was out of earshot, he grabbed Chris and blurted out, "Can you believe that?"  
  
"I know!" Chris exclaimed. "Making me sleep in the guest room instead of with you!"  
  
Toby gently punched him in the arm, but the chuckle and quick hug he got in response confirmed to him that Chris was as pleased as he was with this turn of events.  
  
They then started preparing their turkey sandwiches, with Chris gushing non-stop about how delicious everything looked. When Toby’s mother returned to the room, Chris complimented her with genuine excitement on the wonderful display of food. He remarked on how hard she must have worked to put it all together.  
  
As Toby held back a snort, his mother encouraged Chris to help himself to as much food as he wanted, noting that there was plenty to go around.  
  
Toby watched as his mother took Chris into the dining room and sat next to him at the table. He reflected back on the big, fancy dinner from earlier in the day and compared it to the small, casual meal he was about to enjoy now. Giving thanks, he marveled at the realization that what constituted a bountiful feast actually had little to do with the quantity or quality of food available.


End file.
